Cold With Disappointment
by We oughta buy you a Cadillac
Summary: After her red eye flight, Lisa becomes obsessed with the terrorist Jack Rippner.


_link it to the world  
link it to yourself  
stretch it like a birth squeeze  
the love for what you hide  
the bitterness inside  
is growing like the new born_

_when you've seen, seen  
too much, too young, young  
soulless is everywhere _

That day he left, it was a series of bad mistakes one after another. A string of unfortunate happenings. My thoughts were drowned out at the rush of adrenaline I got when I thought of his name. I know it's wrong but it just felt so right. My name is Lisa Reisert and the person my heart beats for for Jackson Rippner. You may have heard of him. Or maybe you haven't. You see he always had a way of escaping...

I sighed, idly stirring my coffee that had gone cold. I'd always been weak, you know. The difference now is that I was at my very worst. The fact is; after he targeted me to kill Keefe or my dad, my heart broke. I couldn't believe someone in the world was like this. To think I had to meet a terrorist. To think I had these feelings for a terrorist; the thought was impossible. After I dodged his attempt at assassinating and innocent man and his family, he came after me. The fight could have only lasted an hour or two, but it had to have been the most frightening and terrifying moment of my life. Aside from the _incident_ in the parking lot.

That part in my life was dull, I was nothing, I felt nothing except for anger and sadness. "He would have saved me." I murmured to myself, resting my elbows on my the kitchen table, despite my mother chastising me every time I did it when I was younger. I really think Jackson would have saved me. He's a good guy in his heart! This may not be extremely clear with his piercing ice blue eyes and his constant smirk, but the truth remained that my life was a whirlwind after the event. In the end, I didn't shoot him, and he limped out the door, and not too much later dad barreled in.

Jackson Rippner got away free, but not from me. To me, he was an obsession. Something that no matter how many therapy sessions I had would change. He was a beautiful enigma. I would never understand him but I would do my best. Currently it was three o'clock in the morning and it was my normal time for my daily internet searching. I picked myself up from my perched position on the chair, carrying the coffee with me into the den. I nearly killed myself as I tripped over the very bottom of my frayed pajama bottoms. The coffee was thrown out of the mug and the mug slammed against the wall, breaking into several pieces of porcelain. I bit my lip out of anger as I quickly bent over the pieces to collect them.

"Shoot," I murmured as I cut myself on one of the smaller shards. The blood came almost immediately starting out as a small red bead. I stuck it in my mouth, the coppery taste reminded me of several things. As I gathered the pieces in my hand, deciding to just clean up the blood later. I walked into the den, I tossed the pieces in the trash can. I turned around, deciding to clean it up. As soon as I was back, I hopped into my old black arm chair. I pulled myself up to the PC and opened the internet. Once I got to my homepage, Google, I typed in Jackson Rippner.

I doubted I would find anything new. I had already read about him being a suspect in his parents murder , everything else brought up someone completely different.

I know I shouldn't be obsessed with him. I've gone over this so many times in my head, something was wrong with me. I was sick, I was so wrong, yet the thought of him, quickened my heart, my pulse sped up, he commanded my attention. I had toyed around with several ideas that he would come back for me, realizing somehow, that I was the object of his affection and he would never leave me.

Not only did this make me feel complete but also that there w as a hole in my heart. But it made me feel disturbed. Ruined, broken, messed up. I didn't feel this way about my rapist, so why did I feel this way about Jackson Rippner, the terrorist? I couldn't be sure, and I spent many nights sobbing, crying thick tears. I really don't know what to think about him. I don't think I can live without him, though. And this ruins me. I want so badly to forget him. But the other part of me wants to just know he is there. I don't know what to do, and I don't know what to feel. Should I hate the man who tried to kill me, my dad, and Charles Keefe?

He has crushed me. Taken the already broken pieces and practically destroyed them. This is something I hope I can come back from hopefully. Do I want to see him, or do I shudder at his very existence? Confusion is practically my primary setting. My brain is a mess. I'm a mess.

I know I'm a disappointment when Dad invites me to come to his house and I don't go because I think Jackson could walk in at any moment. Or when Cynthia invites me to get drinks and I don't go. I don't really go out, and when I do it's normally forced. I try to hold myself together, but I'm always thinking about him. It isn't normal and it isn't right that I should think of him whenever I see a sunny day out, or when I see a plane fly by.

But sometimes I hate him, I thought, squeezing my fists, watching transfixed as blood squeezed out of my finger. He did this to me. He took over me, and it's his fault. His alone. He is the reason I am terrified of planes, terrified of men, terrified of leaving. I hate that I can't think of anything but him. I hate that I hurt him, and I hate that I hate that.

Even when he's not here I can't win.

_destroy the spineless  
show me it's real  
wasting our last chance  
to come away  
just break the silence  
'cause I'm drifting away  
away from you_

New Born by Muse


End file.
